


Artist

by wimsicalpan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's ticklish, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, sam makes a brief appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimsicalpan/pseuds/wimsicalpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request Fic: "Reader is kind of artistic and is dating dean. one time she runs out of paper and dean suggests she tries to draw something on his back. but dean is really ticklish, so they both end up completely covered with paint and everything ends really smutty ;)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artist

Dean shivers and shakes underneath your hands with a chuckle and you press your knees against his sides with a grin. “Deeaaan,” you whine, one of your hands pressed against his left shoulder, still clean of ink and imagery, “you have to hold still.”

He shakes the last of his current giggles and turns his head to look up at you over his shoulder. “Sorry babe, it tickles alright?”

You purse your lips with a smile and shake your head. “This was your idea.” And it was. On the road you liked to keep yourself busy with the simple pleasure of a pen or pencil and some paper. Inspiration had struck you whilst Sam had gone to the library to do some research and there were no clean sheets of paper in sight. You'd turned to Dean and asked him to run you to the store for some more and he'd raised one brow and shrugged with a simple, “Use me,” hanging onto his smirk.

So here you are, straddling Dean's hips, sans pants, as he lay on his front, shirtless and pantless, his arms underneath his head and a plethora of coloured pens at your disposal. There was a nice line of green ivy down one side of Dean's back, white and red speckled flowers sprouting from it here and there. (you loved flowers and Dean knew it, sometimes handing you a small bunch that you just knew he'd picked from the roadside, but the gesture made you smile all the same)

You had started to use paints, wanting to decorate the rest of his back with a nice eclipse of the sun (you could never settle on just one thing, your pictures more often just a mash up of several different things) and you had started a line of yellow across the edge of Dean's shoulder blades when he'd chuckled.

“I know,” Dean says and he sighs as he lies back down with a shuffle. “Go on, I promise not to move this time.”

You mock glare at his back for a moment before you gather a fresh layer of paint onto the brush. You hesitate, one hand on his free shoulder, the other poising the brush over his skin and after a moment you draw another line, this time orange. You reach the base of his neck before his head jerks back, his whole body moving with the motion, and he laughs, his hands screwing themselves into the pillow underneath him. “Dean!”

“What?” he says through a chuckle, turning to look at you again.

You shove at his clean shoulder and wipe a finger with a sigh over the smudge of paint he'd caused. “You smudged it.”

“Paint over it.”

You roll your eyes and sit up a little higher on Dean's back. “Don't move this time,” you order as you grab some more paint. You pin your knees down a little more firmly against his sides, press a little harder onto his shoulder and try again. This time you reach down to his the edges of his ribs and his body twists, jarring you sideways and your knee landing in the pot of mixed colours you'd been using. “Dean!”

He twists the other way, your leg slipping over his back and you can feel the paint shift with your foot and he turns to see black, blue, yellow, orange and white in dribbles across the side of your knee. He chuckles and meets your gaze, “No offence Y/N but that's not your best work.” You scowl at him playfully and swipe the brush, still covered in paint, at his face. It catches him in a streak of blue across his cheek and the bridge of his nose. “Hey!” He catches your wrist as you pull back and you wrestle for the brush as he sits up on his knees, wrapping one arm around your waist.

You laugh, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “Dean, let go.”

“Nuh uh,” he says, finally wrenching the brush free and he swipes it at your knee, catching up some fresh paint and trails the brush up your neck and over your left ear, making you freeze with a gasp. “I think it's my turn to paint you.”

“You couldn't paint a horse,” you chide, realising that he still has one arm firmly fitted around your waist.

He tilts his head with raised brows and he's quick to whip up another streak of paint from your knee and quickly wipes it across your chest, just above your shirt. The paint's cold against your warm skin and you try to push at Dean's chest with both hands. “Let go.”

“Nope,” he says, sliding his arm down to tug you a little harder against his chest. You pull again and this time his grip slips and you start to fall back. “Y/N!” Dean calls out, dropping the brush and trying to grab you again. You feel his hand on you arm but your already falling and you feel him coming with you. You tumble off the bed and onto the floor, pulling Dean and the pens and paints with you and somehow you end up sprawled, limbs tangled and his chest pressed against your own. Somehow you didn't bang your head or do any serious damage and one of your hands is gripping Dean's shoulder. “You okay?” he whispers, his eyes already taking you in and doing a silent assessment.

You nod and stroke you hand over his shoulder and chest. “I'm fine.” His hands are skimming over your body, looking for anything out of place and you can't help the slight shiver your body gives. “I'm fine,” you repeat a little breathlessly as one of his hands slides over your ass and squeezes one cheek carefully.

“Yeah?” Dean whispers and you smirk. His hand that's underneath you is shifting and pushing and you let him roll you so that your straddling his hips again, this time facing him. His hands settle on your waist and he slowly slides them up, underneath your shirt. “Better let me make sure, just in case.”

“Just in case,” you echo, already leaning forward, your hands on Dean's chest. He lifts your shirt up and off, tossing it to one side.

“So far so good,” Dean says and you nod with a deep breath. His hands ghost up, pressing over your bra covered breasts for a moment before he runs his fingers up and over your shoulders, bringing them down your arms. He grabs onto your waist and sits up so that his face is inches away from yours and his hands glide up to your back. “This is in the way,” he tells you, his eyes falling to your lips. You glance down at his own pair, biting down on your bottom lip. It'd be so easy to just lean forward and-

The straps of your bra begin to slide down your arms and you have to lean back as Dean pulls it off and tosses that away. “Now,” he says, his eyes looking over your chest, “let's take a look shall we.” You nod again, your back arching into Dean's touches as he grabs one breast and kneads it with his fingers, a low hum in his throat. “This one seems good,” he whispers and you can't help but to chuckle.

“Dean,” you whine.

He straightens up a little, his hips moving against yours and that tiny bit of friction makes you crave more. His nose brushes up your neck and over your throat as he hums, “Hm?”

You tilt your head back and gasp when Dean's lips close over your jaw. You rub down against him, your hands searching for something to hold onto as you press against him. “Please,” you whine.

He grins against your jaw and slides his mouth with hot kisses to your ear before he bites down on the lobe with a soft growl. “What?”

“Please,” you repeat and his hands move to cup both cheeks of your ass, pulling you down to rub against his hardening erection and you moan, your eyes closing, “fuck me.”

He grinds up against you and you dig your fingers into his shoulders as he growls and turns, flipping you underneath him. His hands are on your hips, digging in as he nips at your jaw, your neck, your throat and slowly he works his way down, teasing your flushed skin with his teeth as he quickly grazes his teeth across each nipple with a quick flick of his tongue before he nips over your stomach and down. He reaches your panties and glides right over these to press hot, stubbly kisses to your thighs, his teeth catching you with just the right pressure as he works down one thigh and back up. Your breaths come out in soft moans, eyes closed and head thrown back. You can feel warmth pool between your lips and it only gets worse as Dean nips along the edges of your panties before he places a kiss to the spot where your clit lies underneath the thin fabric, elating a gaspy moan from you, your hips rising to meet him, asking him for more.

“Say it,” he tells you, his voice deep and rougher than normal as he glides his fingers up the insides of your thighs and traces the line of your underwear.

“Dean,” you whine, only just able to open your eyes as you glance down at him, your toes already curling as you feel yourself grow wetter from his touches. “Please,” you whisper, “more. I need more.”

He hums against your skin and hooks his fingers into your underwear. He sits back on his knees to pull them off and throw them to one side before he lies between your legs again and lifts your knees onto his shoulders. His breath his hot on your thighs and you shake in excitement, happy that your boyfriend has nothing against this kind of thing and you gasp, your back arching as he licks a stripe up your wet pussy. You lift a hand and grab onto his hair, your other hand clutching helplessly at the carpet as he chuckles against you, his arms wrapped underneath you and his hands on your stomach, and presses his tongue over your clit, sucking gently on it before he kisses it gently. “Like that?”

You nod with a small whine.

He turns his head, kisses your thigh once and pulls you a little closer to him. He presses his tongue against you again and this time he pushes it inside of you. You moan and try not to squash his head with your thighs as pleasure shoots through you as you feel him curl his tongue up inside of you and brush against your walls. “Dean,” you whine out, pushing down against him with a mewl.

He moans against you and you feel his tongue drag over you again before he sucks on your clit gently and all too soon he's pulling away from you. You watch him with needy eyes as he eases your legs down and moves to lie on top of you, pressing his clothed erection against your center. He tilts his head and leans down to kiss you tenderly and you wrap your hand in his hair, tasting yourself on his tongue with a moan. Slowly, you feel him begin to rock against you and your mouth opens with a moan. His tongue darts out and swirls against yours and you moan, pulling him down into the kiss as his hips grind harshly against yours.

“Dean,” you whine against his lips, “fuck me. Now.”

You pull him back down for another kiss and this one is rougher, more forceful as his hands trail themselves over your body in harsh lines, his fingers catching and digging in to all of the sensitive areas that make you shiver with a mutter of, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The heat disappears and you blink your eyes open in surprise to watch Dean step over you, mumbling to himself as he grabs his pants. You shiver at the sudden cold and bite your lip before you see him pull out a foil wrapper. He falls to his knees between your legs again as he gets the condom out, throws the wrapper away and rolls it onto his dick. You squeeze your legs against him, needing something to help with the heat between your legs and Dean groans as he catches your eyes. “So needy babe,” he whispers as he strokes himself in front of you.

You moan as you watch him and when he carries on with a smirk you whimper, trying to rub your hips against him. “Dean, please.”

He chuckles and runs his fingers up your thighs, his nails just on the edge of biting into your skin as he grabs your hips and pulls them up into his lap. “I got you baby girl,” he whispers, his hands running up your thighs again and this time he brushes each pad of his thumb up the center of your fold and over your clit, earning another moan from you. He grins to himself and grabs your hips with one hand. You watch him with dark eyes as he presses the head of his cock against you. You can't help but to push against him and Dean lets out a breathy moan but pushes your hips away slightly. “I got you,” he repeats and you relax in his hands with a whine, reaching down to grab his wrist with one hand.

“Dean.”

“I got you,” he says and slowly he pulls you back. This time he nudges the head of his cock inside of you and you let out a shaky breath, your back arching as you feel him begin to stretch you open. “So good,” Dean mumbles and you nod, your eyes closing as you feel him push inside of you. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him pull you onto him, enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being full, gasps and moans falling from your mouth without control. You reach a hand above you, used to feeling something to grab onto but this time you scratch at carpet and groan in frustration and pleasure as Dean starts that first roll of his hips into you.

The carpet grazes against your back and you know it's going to leave a carpet burn, but you push back against Dean as he thrusts long and deep inside of you with a groan. “Fuck, baby girl,” he whispers and now both of his hands are on your hips. “so hot, so tight, so good.”

You nod, your head thrown back, a constant stream of moans and whines spilling from your mouth as Dean begins to pick up his pace, his thrusts getting shallower and faster, each one striking you hard enough to push you up the carpet whilst Dean's hands pull you back down to his hips. “Dean, Dean, fuck, fuck,” you whine and it's when you feel him lift your hips up a little more that you feel him begin to hit your g-spot and you shout, a whimper soon following.

Dean is relentless as he hits into that same spot, driving shouts from your mouth and soon you can do nothing but whimper as you cling to him with your legs, your hands scrabbling fruitlessly at the carpet, your back sore from the carpet burns but the pleasure overrides everything. “De-an,” you shakily gasp as that coil in your stomach tightens. Dean's hand is on your stomach, pinning you in place as he thrusts hard and fast, his eyes closed and his head rolled back. His fingers begin to dig into your skin and before you know it you're shouting with a yell of his name, your back arches and your hips push down onto Dean with a whining moan as you clench hard around him.

Dean still moves and you bite your lip with a whimper as you begin to sag around him, everything sensitive and his fingers stroke over your stomach. “Look at me,” he whispers and you slowly open your eyes with another whine as he strikes that same wonderful spot. “Once more,” he whispers and he traces a line with his thumb down your stomach. You shake your head and just as you open your mouth to tell him you can't he presses the pad of his thumb to that oh so sensitive bundle of nerves and pleasure spikes through you with another shout. “There you go,” he growls and your skin flushes with another wave of pleasure.

His thumb circles and presses and rubs and teases and you whimper with each new prod, your body shaking. “Dean,” you whine, so out of breath and wrecked you don't care how quiet and pitiful it sounded. Every inch if your body is high on pleasure and you need more.

“I know, I know,” he soothes, and his thumb presses a harsh circle against you and a second orgasm rushes over you with a loud whimper. This time you latch onto his wrist with both hands as you bite your lip and whine through it. He thrusts into you, into your g-spot three more times and you feel him swell, feel him harden that little bit more before his dick twitches and you know from his deep, body shaking moan that he's finished too.

You sag again, your eyes closed and your arms dropped against the floor carelessly. Your back hurts, the muscles in your legs are tense but you ride the pleasure coursing through you as you gasp and pant to get your breath back. Dean leans down over you and places light kisses over your stomach and chest. Slowly he reaches up to your neck and your and your cheek then your face and you can only muster lazy kisses in return.

“That-” you pant before you let out a laugh.

Dean presses his forehead against yours as he nods with a whisper, “Yeah.”

The door to the motel opens and you roll your head up to see Sam staring down at you two, sprawled across the floor with your legs still wrapped around Dean's waist. He looks away after a moment of shock and you only laugh as he yells something about putting a sock on the door. 


End file.
